I definitely think worst part of kids growing up is their development of long term memory. One day you can speak freely without fear of being listened to and the next they’re spouting family gossip to anyone who will listen and unleashing cuss words like they’ve used them all their lives. At two Conner’s ability to remember the word shit, and only use it at surprisingly appropriate times and in perfect context was kind of cute. Now at four his memory is out of control and ruining my claims to perfect parenthood.
With that I give you a story about the most recent thing Conner has remembered… and I’m sure he will never, ever, EVER forget and will only choose to bring up at the MOST awkward and embarrassing times… because isn’t that just how motherhood works?
Yesterday, while I was heading out the front door to chat up the neighbor I noticed something wrong with my rosebushes. We moved into this house a few months ago and the mature, well cared for plants are my pride and joy, the rose bushes especially. I check them daily for weird changes in behavior and they have responded well to being totally ignored (because I have no idea how to take care of a freakin’ rosebush!). Well on this day I noticed something majorly different, like my bushes were somehow a foot shorter and crawling with mating beetles!!!
After screaming and running in circles for a minute Nic came out with the perimeter guard, bug killer stuff that he keeps around (because he’s a manly man with a garage full of storage for things like bug spray) and let those plant eating assholes have it. The neighbors came over to check out the damage and because I think I’m oh so witty I said this to the neighbor;
“Damn beetles, acting like they own the place… eating my rosebushes and having sex on my front porch, don’t they know there are children around?!!”
Yes, there were children around, but unlike the beetles I have no excuse… I need to start spelling my conversations out or speaking pig latin or something. The next morning while we were watching cartoons Conner turned to me and asked “Are there still beetles outside having sex?”
My eyes popped out of my head, my heart stopped, and I barely gasped out “Uhhhh, the beetles are gone and that was just a joke mommy made, I probably shouldn’t have… uhhhhhh maybe that’s not something we should repeat….”
With joy in his happy little eyes Conner replied, “I know you were joking, it was the funniest joke I ever heard!”
Avoiding eye contact and acting nonchalant I casually asked, “Um, if you thought it was so funny… what do you think sex is….?”
Without even stopping for a minute he answered, “Well, it’s when you give each other piggy backs and eat a whole rose bush!”
“You are exactly right! That’s a perfect explanation of sex… now let’s stop talking about it.”
And that’s how we closed the subject… until the next time it comes up. I’m sure it won’t even enter his mind until that one time we visit a convent, or a nursing home, or a quiet craft fair full of grandmas.
Kerri@ Elbow Deep in Someone Else's Sh*t says
Oh thank god you commented, I was starting to think my parenting lapse was too shocking for people to even speak of haha!
I'm a big fan of pot bellied ballerinas… hence the swimsuit… I can barely restrain myself when she wears it, I just want to squeeze her!
LOL. Seriously. Piggybacks and eat a whole rose bush. Damn beetles having sex in front of my children!
Also, in the beach post…pink suit, little pot belly, big yellow bow = diabetic shock from the sweetness.